Mauritz stared at the face of the mysterious leader of the local resistance, the woman he knew only as 'Lady Lyn', getting his first clear look at the woman who was holding him prisoner. It was something of a surprise, really... Lady Lyn was younger than he'd expected--her late twenties at most--and rather pretty, not at all the hardbitten wild woman he'd expected.
No, instead he was staring at a young woman with a thin delicate face, whose ringlets of brown hair hung down to her neck, and whose large pale hazel eyes seemed more unhappy than defiant.
But then, what did Mauritz know? He'd thought joining the army had been a clever enough idea when he'd done it.
"So," said Lady Lyn, "my men tell me your willing to talk..."
Mauritz nodded. "No reason for false courage in a situation like this, your highness..." he began.
"Your ladyship," corrected Lady Lynn. "I'm only a countess."
"Ahh." Mauritz managed a weak cough. "Well, as I said, I know I'm done for, and so winning your favor's my only hope. Besides, not like I'm that fond of the Prince's Men." He looked at her for a moment. "Is it true that Amfortas... that he killed your Queen?"
"We don't know for sure," answered Lady Lyn. "But we think so. He at least drove her to her death."
"I see," said Mauritz quietly. "That's... I am sorry. I... I never saw her, but I had heard of her, and she sounded like a nice young woman."
Lady Lyn looked at him interestedly. "What do you hear about her?"
"Oh, this and that," said Mauritz. "That the Prince was going to usher in an age of glory with her as his bride, at first. Then that she had been killed by traitors. Or Nightfolk. It really wasn't made clear." He sighed. "Still... it's always good to get another point of view. Helps one to truth. Which is the way of the Holy Light. That's what my da' always said."
"How are they feeding you?" asked Lady Lyn.
"Very well," answered Mauritz. "They make a fine stew, your men."
"That they do," she agreed.